Café Anomalies

Mistake

Chapter 6. I'm surprised people actually read this. Nonetheless, I'm happy and never really knew how much one comment can make a person so happy <3 So everyone, even the silent readers, should tell me their thoughts, feelings, words. 

Enjoy.

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mis·take : /məˈstāk/

noun plural noun: mistakes

1.   an action or judgment that is misguided or wrong.

Two weeks.

For two weeks, Ziven didn't catch a single glimpse of the familiar auburn haired male.

He didn't care.

He tried not to.

He didn't want to.

 

"You know what I heard?" Rose asked as she took a seat at her usual place at the counter. She didn't wait for the brunette to respond and continued, "Erik came from a mental asylum."

"That's nice, Rose," Ziven muttered absent mindedly.

"Really- my friend said so," she said.

"Wait, let me guess. Your friend has a friend of a friend who has a friend whose friend dated Erik, right?"

"Yeah, how'd you know?"

He sighed, "You townsfolk are really interested in Erik."

"Of course!" She exclaimed loudly, slamming her palm onto the marble countertop without warning, "it's not like everyday we get someone as crazy as Erik."

Without wanting to, Ziven found himself muttering, "He's not crazy."

Rose looked at him.

"Do you like guys?" She asked curiously.

"I-" Ziven paused.

"No. I don't know."

"Oh my god, you like him!" Rose accused, jumping up from her seat. Her face showed an array of emotions: shock, then disbelief, then a teasing grin.

Ziven tried to quiet the excited girl, cautious of the stares from his customers. In small towns like these, rumours spread like wildfire. By tomorrow, Ziven was sure the entire town would be aware of Rose's misunderstanding.

"I don't like him," he hissed, trying to calm the overly excited girl, "He's annoying and immature and clingy and he doesn't know when to stop and I don't like him."

Rose opened her mouth to respond, however a quiet voice laced with hurt interrupted.

"Oh."

Ziven's eyes wandered behind Rose. Erik.

Erik smiled ruefully, "I didn't- I didn't know." His head ducked, fingers tightening around his bag- probably his school bag. "I'm sorry," his voice cracked.

Ziven stopped himself from stopping Erik to apologize as he dashed out of the store.

Rose whistled, "You've done it now, Ziven Mais."

"Shut up, Rose," he snapped.

"Snappy," she scoffed, "You don't know how to treat people right. I bet that's why you don't even have a girlfriend yet."

Ziven didn't answer because he knew that she was right. So, so right. Much of his past relationships had ended due to complications- mostly on Ziven's part, they had said. After a while, he had given up hoping for forgiveness after apologies proved futile.

"Aren’t you going to apologize? He looked like he was about to cry."

"No."

"You're a bad person, Ziven."

"You're not so great yourself."

"Y'know, normal people would go and apologize. But what do you do? Continue making coffee!" she proclaimed incredulously.

"There's no reason to apologize if I only said the truth."

Rose tossed her hair over her shoulder and examined her bright pink nails, "I wonder if I scratched you hard enough, you'd die from loss of blood."

"Where's your boyfriend?" Ziven asked, feeling rather exhausted.

"We broke up," she replied nonchalantly, "He reminded me too much of you."

"Gee. Thanks. That makes me feel a lot better," he said, sarcasm dripping from every word, “I’m sorry I want to make a living out of my job.”

Rose pursed her lips and crossed her arms across her chest. “Whatever,” she muttered, “I’m leaving.” Shaking her head, the ginger slid off the barstool and left.

Ziven didn’t bother stopping her, either.

The next day, Ziven knew that he didn't have to be a genius to know that Erik wouldn't be visiting. After all, who would after hearing such scathing words? 

Imagine his surprise when Erik showed up in front of his store hours before it opened. 

In the lazy morning of Wednesday, Ziven confronted Erik. Slow rolls of mist passed by their feet as early birds chirped their morning songs. 

"I'm not apologizing."

"I know."

"What do you want?"

"Please don't hate me."

"I don't."

"I can't—"

"Can't what?"

"I can't take this anymore. You can't hate me—please don't hate me. You're the only person I can talk to. I don't know—"

"Erik."

"—what I'll do if you start hating me, too. Please, please."

"I don't hate you."

"Promise?"

"..."